


If You Wake Up Wondering

by coffeeonthebrunhild



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Not Season/Series 08 Compliant, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-03-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:47:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23062717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeeonthebrunhild/pseuds/coffeeonthebrunhild
Summary: When the ghosts of what could have been keep Keith awake at night, Shiro offers some clarity... and asks an important question.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 33
Kudos: 121





	If You Wake Up Wondering

Darkness envelops the Garrison, settling in a silken shroud over Keith’s solitary vigil on the roof. It’s a moonless night; with most of the nearby sources of light pollution eliminated in Sendak’s attack, stars and nebulas swirl together freely in a kaleidoscope of vibrant color, almost as bold and bright as in the sky he used to watch from the shack.

There’s a promise of winter in the chilled breeze that softly caresses his cheeks. Unruly strands slip free from the careless braid he wore to bed, obscuring his view. 

Without taking his eyes from the heavens, Keith unspools his hair, dividing it between practiced fingers and effortlessly weaving a now-familiar pattern. It’s a skill his mother taught him, a symbol of status among the Blade, and one that has become second nature as a leader of the group himself.

Even well after midnight, the complex below still buzzes with activity. New dignitaries arrive every day, with Blade agents and other members of the Coalition constantly reporting in and out. What was once the seat of the meager space program of an unknown, backwater planet is now the biggest intergalactic hub this side of the universe. 

But up here, there’s nothing but blessed quiet. The pocket of air around him feels like the night is holding its breath after a long, peaceful inhale.

It’s the perfect atmosphere for losing himself in his thoughts.

Now that he’s traveled beyond the fringes of the universe, the twinkling expanse above should feel closer to him; yet somehow it seems further beyond his reach than ever. Each glittering point represents its own solar system, with a collection of planets and moons housing myriad cultures, societies and families. And amid the endless threads of reality, there’s as many different versions of those as there are stars in the sky.

Keith has never thought of himself as a greedy person. He learned early on to be grateful for what he has, because it’s all too easy to lose everything. But maybe gaining so many important things in his life has changed his perspective, made him grow complacent.

It’s the only explanation for how he still finds time to mourn for other realities when he has everything he’s ever wanted in this one.

The quiet click of a door opening and closing intrudes on the stillness, followed by gentle shuffling footsteps across the roof. A secret smile curves Keith’s lips at the sound.

Before Kerberos, Keith knew the sound of Shiro’s footsteps better than his own. Shiro walked with purpose, carrying a firm clip of determination in his stride as if to stamp his mark into the Earth itself. Every step announced his presence with megaphone volume, the impact of each footfall resonating in Keith’s chest.

But Shiro’s time with the Galra taught him to be silent. When he truly doesn’t wish to be found, even Keith’s superior hearing can’t pick him out. The unobtrusive scuff of slippers Keith hears now is a conscious choice on Shiro’s part. 

It’s at least partly out of courtesy, and for practical safety reasons; after everything they’ve been through, neither of them reacts well to someone sneaking up behind him. Keith always makes sure to telegraph his presence long before Shiro can see him, too. But more than that, it’s an expression of trust. While Keith is here, Shiro doesn’t _need_ to conceal his comings and goings. Here, he’s safe.

The footsteps move closer until Shiro drapes himself against Keith’s back. He’s wearing their largest blanket like a cape, dangling from his shoulders with the corners gripped in each hand. When his arms wrap around Keith, it feels like being cradled in an angel’s wings. 

A cold nose nuzzles Keith’s cheek before Shiro tucks his chin onto Keith’s shoulder, settling in to watch the stars. Keith sinks into his warmth with a sigh.

Peaceful moments pass, silent save for the whispering of the breeze and the soothing rhythm of their breathing. Their inhales and exhales fall in synch before Keith fully realizes it.

He focuses on that feeling, on the rise and fall of Shiro’s chest, in time with the beating of his own heart. The heat radiating through his thin sleep shirt grounds him. This is real. He can close his eyes knowing this won’t disappear when they open.

Shiro speaks first, voice pitched low so as not to disturb the moment.

“I missed you.”

It’s both an explanation and an opening. Shiro would never push, never accuse, but Keith feels a stab of guilt nonetheless. He knows how it feels to wake up with the other side of the bed gone cold, with that tiny twinge of irrational fear he can’t quite squash.

He rests his temple against Shiro’s head. “Sorry. Couldn’t sleep.”

Shiro makes a soft sound of understanding; they both have their share of sleepless nights. Keith suspects they always will, no matter how many years of peace they enjoy.

“Can I help?”

“You are helping.” Keith grasps Shiro’s left wrist inside their blanket shelter. “You’re here.”

“I’m here,” Shiro agrees. His arms squeeze around Keith reassuringly. “I’m here, Keith.”

“I know.”

Keith does know. Shiro has said those words over and over, pressed into Keith’s hair and whispered against his skin as many times as he needs to hear them. It’s as much a reassurance for Shiro as it is for Keith—a reminder that he truly does exist in this space, tangible and alive, and Keith will never let him go.

It should be enough. Most days, it _is_ enough. But some nights, as Keith lies in Shiro’s arms, listening to his soft snoring, he’s haunted by the ghosts of what could have been.

Keith smiles wistfully, fingertips tracing the veins on the inside of Shiro’s wrist.

“While Mom and I were in the Quantum Abyss… we saw so much. So many possibilities. One tiny choice branches off into millions of possible futures.”

After everything he’s seen, it’s all too easy to imagine the many ways he could have lost this. Futures where he didn’t get to Sendak in time. Where Shiro never woke up, fading away in the healing pod when his new body rejected his soul. Where Keith never found Shiro’s soul at all, leaving him imprisoned forever in the astral plane. Where Shiro’s body slipped from Keith’s fingers, falling away into the void of space.

There must be other timelines, too, formed long before these pivotal moments along their journey. Futures where Shiro never even left for Kerberos. Where he never suffered the horrors of captivity, but also never found a cure for his disease.

Keith bites his lip, blinking back the nightmare visions dancing beneath his eyelids.

“There are so many different realities, even beyond the ones we’ve stumbled into. Sometimes, it’s hard not to think… what happened to the versions of us that made those other choices?” Keith’s hold on Shiro’s wrist tightens, as if this hard-eared reality might disappear from under his hands. “How many paths splintered off to reach where we are now? How many times did I screw up and lose everything?”

For a moment, Shiro is very still. Finally, he shifts back, hands grasping Keith’s elbows as he turns Keith to face him. Starlight glitters in the depths of dark, serious gray eyes.

“Keith… You know I’ve never been interested in what-ifs. Facing the here and now with everything I have is the only way I know how to live.”

Keith tries to nod, but the large fingers of Shiro’s prosthetic hold his chin steady. The blanket falls in a curtain around the glowing port at Shiro’s shoulder.

“But let me just say this,” Shiro continues. “Maybe there are other realities where things happened differently. After everything we’ve both seen, I can’t deny that. But I also know there are some things that won’t change, no matter what choices we make. There’s such a thing as universal constants—facts determined by who we are, not what we do.”

Keith’s familiar with the theory. Krolia spoke of _waypoints_ , events that occur seemingly against all logic and possibility, as if forced into action by the universe itself. He figures Voltron must be one of those waypoints—that in creating the lions, Alfor unknowingly tapped into something deep within the tangled threads of space and time.

When Shiro speaks again, his voice is barely above a whisper, but each word rings clear and bright in Keith’s ears.

“You know, Keith… Before I left for Kerberos, you were already the most important person in my life. Adam and I were never meant for forever, no matter how hard we tried to make it work. We were always going to fall apart. Kerberos only decided the timing. But you…”

Shiro drops Keith’s chin, flesh hand coming up to cup Keith’s face instead. 

“You supported me. You kept me going. You gave me someone to come back to.”

His lips curve into his softest, sweetest smile, the one that crinkles the skin at the corners of his eyes. It’s a smile he reserves only for Keith.

“And you were always going to grow into the strongest, most beautiful man I’ve ever known. There’s no way I wouldn’t see.”

His thumb traces, reverent, down the curve of Keith’s scar. Despite the searing heat of his touch, an irrepressible shiver runs under Keith’s skin.

Something is happening in this space, in this little corner of the universe where they stand huddled together. Keith can feel the threads of fate—quintessence, life energy in its purest form—weaving a pattern in the air around them. Every breath expands in his chest with the weight of inevitability.

Shiro’s next words are full of wonder, and Keith knows he feels it too.

“It’s not a coincidence that every time I’m in danger—every time I’m lost—you’re the one who finds me. You always have, and you always will. _You’re_ my universal constant.”

The intensity in his gaze steals Keith’s breath. This is how Shiro looks when he grasps hold of his dreams with nails and teeth and not even death itself can pry him away.

“There is no reality where you fail to save me. And there is no reality where I don’t fall in love with you. That possibility does not exist.”

Shiro leans closer, pressing their foreheads together so all Keith can see is the pure conviction shining in his eyes.

“It’s _always_ going to be you, Keith.”

Keith’s exhale leaves him in a shaky sob. He grabs Shiro’s face in both hands and slams their lips together. Shiro kisses back just as desperately, arm winding tight around Keith’s waist.

They’re both crying when they break apart. Keith laughs through the fat, ugly tears rolling down his cheeks, and latches his arms around Shiro’s neck. He just wants to be as close as possible, feeling Shiro’s heartbeat against his chest, sharing the same breath.

“You, too,” he gasps. “Only you, Shiro.”

Shiro drags him impossibly closer, until Keith’s spine bends from being squeezed so tightly. He buries his face in Keith’s hair.

_“Keith,”_ Shiro breathes, like Keith’s name is the only language worth knowing.

They stay like that for untold moments, drinking in each other’s presence. Shiro is the one to pull away first, gently easing out of Keith’s clinging grasp with a quiet kiss of apology. Keith is about to pull him back in when Shiro’s prosthetic floats back to its usual place at his side. 

Keith blinks in surprise; he’d hardly realized the arm was gone. A small, dark object is hidden within the oversized fist.

Shiro coughs awkwardly, weight shifting from foot to foot. After a moment’s hesitation, he clasps Keith’s fingers in his flesh hand, squeezing almost tight enough to hurt.

Almost tentatively, the prosthetic moves to hover in front of Keith. Thick metal fingers fall open to reveal a black velvet box.

Keith feels himself freeze. His entire universe narrows, the specters of possibility falling away. There is only this moment, in this reality, with nothing but the infinite sky and the nervous tremor in Shiro’s voice.

“I kept telling myself I was waiting for the right time, and… I think this is it.”

With a long, deep breath, as if to steel himself, Shiro flicks the lid open with his thumb.

The box contains a braided rose-gold band, simple and shining. The stars reflect in its polished surface like miniature sparkling diamonds.

Shiro clears his throat.

“I know you wouldn't want anything too flashy, and it needs to fit under your gloves, so…”

Keith plucks the ring from the velvet. The soft metal feels warm and solid between his fingertips, though it seems to weigh nothing at all.

The band slides smoothly onto the ring finger of his left hand, hugging his skin like a part of his body he never knew he was missing. With it, the last lingering twinges of anxiety in his chest softly melt away.

“It's an Altean thing, actually,” Shiro babbles. “Allura told me they call it soul gold. They’re made in sets, and once you put it on, it’ll never... come... off…” The flush drains out of Shiro’s face, leaving his cheeks nearly as pale as his hair. “Uh. Maybe I should’ve explained that first?”

Keith huffs a helpless laugh. Just like that, this man, a hero and leader of millions, who not ten minutes ago was making declarations of eternal, reality-transcending love, is stumbling all over himself.

Keith allows himself another moment to admire the sunset glow of the metal against his skin before he catches Shiro’s hand again.

“Too late now,” he murmurs.

“God, I’m so sorry, Keith. Maybe Allura can–”

_“Shiro.”_

Shiro’s jaw snaps shut, eyes wide and shining. He’s so ridiculous. Keith’s heart swells to bursting in his chest; it feels like it shouldn’t even be possible to love someone this much.

“Ask me,” Keith whispers.

Shiro must find what he’s looking for in Keith’s eyes. His panic fades, replaced by Keith’s favorite smile.

“Keith.” He grasps Keith’s hands in both of his. “I want a life with you in this and every reality, if you’ll have me.”

Holding Keith’s gaze, he gently brushes his lips against the ring on Keith’s finger.

“Marry me?”

Keith grins like an idiot. He rises onto his toes to bump his forehead into Shiro’s.

“ _Hell_ yes.”

Relieved laughter bubbles from Shiro’s chest. He hugs Keith tight enough to lift his feet from the floor, swinging him in a breathless circle before setting him down again. Before Keith can catch his balance, Shiro’s hands cup his cheeks, and Shiro’s mouth is on his, sloppy and desperate.

“So where’s yours?” Keith gasps when Shiro finally allows him room to breathe. “You said they’re a set, right?”

It shouldn’t be possible for Shiro to light up any more, but he manages. His grin glows bright enough to outshine the absent moon. “In Allura’s lab.”

Keith pries Shiro’s hands from his hips and tugs him toward the door.

“C’mon. I wanna put it on you.”

“Wait, Keith,” Shiro laughs, though he’s already stumbling to follow, scooping up the fallen blanket as he goes. “Shouldn’t that wait for the wedding?”

In a single instant, Keith sees the paths branching off before their feet.

Maybe in another reality, they enjoy a long engagement, pull out all the stops and bring all their friends and family from across the universe together for a lavish ceremony worthy of the paladins of old.

Maybe there’s a reality with a small, private gathering, where Krolia gives Keith away, and Coran officiates through waterfalls of tears.

Maybe there’s even a reality where they drag the other paladins from their beds, jump in Black, and fly to the first justice of the peace they find, making their vows right then and there.

But no matter which reality they choose, Keith knows now that it doesn’t matter. As long as he’s Keith, and Shiro is Shiro, they’ll always end up in the same place.

“No,” Keith decides. “We can do something for the others later, if you want. But this…” He holds up his hand, ring flashing in the starlight. _Soul gold_ , Shiro called it, forged in a braided band—the strands of two souls, woven together. “I want this to be just for us. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, Keith.” Shiro aligns his palm to Keith’s, slotting their fingers together. “Of course it’s okay.”

Keith presses a rushed kiss to Shiro’s lips, grinning so broadly it almost hurts. He makes it all the way to the door before pausing, fingers curled around the handle.

Through everything they’ve shared tonight, there’s one important thing he still hasn’t said.

He turns to find Shiro watching him with a tilted head and a sappy smile. 

“Shiro?”

“Hm?”

“I love you.”

Shiro beams. “I love you too, Keith.”

>   
>  _And if you wake up wondering_  
>  _In the darkness I’ll be there_  
>  _My arms will close around you_  
>  _And protect you with the truth_  
>  “I Know You’re Out There Somewhere” - The Moody Blues  
> 

**Author's Note:**

> If you don’t know the quoted song, please give it a [listen](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cf_lPwKEVgo), it’s SUCH a sheith song.
> 
> Thanks for reading! I originally hoped to post this on December 14, but I didn’t quite finish in time, and it ended up languishing in my drafts for a while. This is something I needed to write to sort out my own feelings. I'll be happy if it brings even a little bit of joy or peace of mind. <3
> 
> Come cry about sheith with me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/SundaySEternal)!


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